


bang bang (my baby shot me down)

by thepolourryexpress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Breathplay, Canon Compliant, Choking, Cockwarming, Kink Exploration, Light Bondage, Louis gets tied down, Louis in Makeup, Louis in Panties, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Sort Of, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepolourryexpress/pseuds/thepolourryexpress
Summary: “I walked in on them having sex again,” Niall says after a beat of hesitation.Liam still looks confused. “Why’s this different from every other time we’ve seen them having sex?” Liam asks, and oh, Harry knows Liam really doesn’t want to know the answer to this one.Niall’s gone silent then, and Harry almost thinks they’re in the clear. Liam is back to scrolling through his phone, and Zayn is whispering something to Louis that makes the older boy giggle. They’re going to get through this car ride without a murder.But then Niall’s covering his face with his sweatshirt, taking in a breath and on his exhale, Harry hears him mutter, “Louis was wearing knickers.”Liam’s phone clatters to the floor of the car.Or the one where Harry wants a little more in the bedroom and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 112
Kudos: 560
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	bang bang (my baby shot me down)

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this prompt; I hope y'all enjoy! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone on Twitter and Tumblr who supported me and cheered me on. I love you all so much!
> 
> Thank you to [Emma](https://twitter.com/alltheselightts) and [Miles](https://twitter.com/smittenwlouis) for being the best BLFF mods we could ever ask for! I appreciate you both so much! 
> 
> Thank you to my beautiful beta and friend [Kat](https://twitter.com/haddystan) for everything! I love you so much, and I can't even begin to express how lovely you are!! Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. <3
> 
>  **Prompt 2:** Louis and Harry are trying roleplay in the bedroom but Louis keeps pointing out plot holes in Harry’s ideas. It can be a little funny, though they eventually do have sex.

Since the start of their relationship, Harry doesn’t think sex has ever been an issue for him and Louis. It’s definitely not anything either one of them are shy of, much to the dismay of their bandmates and tour staff. Their sex life is healthy — Harry’s happy to admit that they have sex as frequently as they can and it’s never anything less than exciting. Being with Louis even after all these years has him just as excited as he was when they first got off together in The X-Factor house. 

Even during their most busiest weeks, they find time to have sex. It never feels planned — God, they’re not _that_ lame — and it never feels forced either. If Louis isn’t in the mood, Harry’s more than happy to back off, to wait. He doesn’t think he’s ever not in the mood to have sex with Louis. 

In fact, he’s always ready to drop anything he’s doing when Louis is even _hinting_ at having sex. He’s whipped.

Harry doesn’t know what it is, really. And he hates this, but he wants _more_. He doesn’t even know what _more_ contains — does he want sex to be a little rougher? Does he want to go all Christian Grey on Louis? The one thing he is sure about, is that it’s all about Louis. It’s not about experimenting with other people, it’s not that he’s getting bored with the older boy either. God, how could he ever get bored with Louis? He’s constantly on his toes because of him. 

He feels guilty about it, is the thing. Sex is nothing less than perfect with Louis. Even the times where they’re a bit too drunk and everything’s sloppy, or the times where they’re both a little too tired and not so into it. He’s never once complained about their sex being boring, and truthfully, it’s not. He’d be more than happy to stay in the missionary position with Louis for the rest of his life if that’s what Louis wants. Fortunately enough, that’s not the case. He thinks it’d be rather hard to have sex on the tour bus or a quickie in the shower if all they wanted to do was spend all their time in the missionary position. 

There’s nothing wrong with it, of course, but Harry knows they’re not vanilla. They can be rough sometimes, and they’re just... they’re definitely too horny to be considered vanilla. They’ve both dragged each other off backstage too many times to be considered vanilla. As much as Harry loves when they’re sappy, when he’s staring down at Louis in the missionary position, Harry knows that it’s not always them. He likes the nights where Louis’ riding him, even if Harry’s very keen on doing most of the work for them — he just likes taking care of his baby. And he likes the times where they’re doing it anywhere they can, whether it be in the car, on the bus (much to the dismay of the boys), or on every surface of their most recent house in London. It had to be christened, alright? 

No way in hell would Harry consider himself to be unhappy with their sex life. He’s _happy_. He gets excited every time Louis shows even the smallest amount of attention to his dick. 

He just doesn’t know how to bring it up. 

✰ ✰ ✰

The first time he brings it up, it doesn’t go well. 

They’re on the tour bus with Zayn, sprawled out on the couch watching _Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice_. Harry can appreciate a good superhero movie, he can. But he doesn’t get as excited as Louis, Zayn, or even Liam over this sort of thing. Maybe it’s his lack of interest for the comics, he doesn’t know. Either way, he doesn’t get bored of watching Louis geek out over different versions of the same characters and movies. 

“Henry Cavill,” Louis whistles when Clark Kent’s on the screen, his foot nudging Harry’s thigh absently. 

“You say that every single time he comes on the screen, Lou,” Zayn says, reaching over to flick Louis’ neck.

Louis rolls his eyes. “‘Cause he’s—”

“Henry Cavill. I know,” Zayn sighs. 

“— and, _c’mon_. He’s bloody fit. Look at him,” Louis huffs. “He deserves to be recognised. Sexiest man alive for a reason, I can see it.”

“Do you want an open relationship?” Harry asks then, between Louis and Zayn’s argument over Henry Cavill. It’s random, and Harry doesn’t even think he means it, doesn’t even know why it’s come out of his mouth. Between the silence that falls over the three of them and the look on Louis’ face right now, it doesn’t look like Louis knows either. Zayn looks like he’s about to choke. 

“Do _I_ want an open relationship?” Louis questions, and if Harry didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like Louis was challenging him. As if he was wondering if he just heard Harry correctly. “Are you— _really_? You’re asking me that?” Louis prompts, and Harry just shrugs his shoulders. 

At this point, he’s not sure if he should be answering anything. He’s treading a very fine line. 

“Why would you even think that? What kind of question is that? Do I want to have sex with other people? Do _you_ think I want to have sex with other people? What, should I be having sex with Zayn right now?” 

“Alright, _no_. I’m leaving now,” Zayn grunts, pulling himself out of where he was squeezed against the arm of the couch. Harry almost wishes he’d stay just so he’d have a witness to his murder. 

“No, that’s not— it was a question, Louis.”

“A rather stupid one. Is there a brain in there?” 

Harry sighs, taking his hand away from where it’s been rather frozen on Louis’ ankle and bringing it up to cover his face. It’s then that he’s realised he’s graciously lacking a mind to mouth filter. _Open relationship_. He’s bloody stupid. He doesn’t even think he could handle that. The mere thought of Louis and Zayn together makes his chest tighten with jealousy. 

The thought’s hot, though. From an outside, not practically engaged to Louis, perspective. That’ll be his next stupid question.

“Is this about Henry Cavill? I was— Jesus, Harry. He doesn’t even know I exist probably,” Louis continues, frowning as he sits up on the couch. 

“No, it was just a question. I don’t know. It was just a thought,” Harry says.

“So you’ve been thinking about having an open relationship?” Louis squints.

Harry frowns, “What? No—”

“You want to have sex with somebody else.”

“Louis, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Are you getting bored? Who the fuck are you trying to have sex with?” Louis asks, and he’s standing up now, Henry Cavill completely forgotten about on the screen. God, Harry wishes he could’ve just sat here and listened to Louis thirst over the man. 

“I’m not trying to have sex with anyone else,” Harry groans, tipping his head against the back of the couch. 

“Then I just don’t understand why you’re asking if I want an open relationship. If you’re not trying to have sex with someone else, and I know _I’m_ not trying to have sex with someone else, then I don’t get why you would even ask such a question.” Louis has his arms crossed over his chest now, swamped in one of Harry’s sweatshirts with gym shorts hanging just above his knees. His feet are covered in a pair of white socks, bunched up at the ankles, and if Harry was certain that he wouldn’t get smacked, he’d be trying to wrap Louis up in his arms just about now.

Oh, the world is so cruel. 

“Baby,” Harry sighs, dropping his hands into his lap as meets Louis’ expectant gaze. The thing is, he doesn’t even know how to explain to Louis what he wants. Hell, he’s not even sure what he wants himself. He doesn’t want an open relationship, he knows that. If Louis wants one, maybe he’d think about trying it — he’s always been shit at telling Louis no — but in reality, he’d very much like to be the only person Louis is sleeping with. 

If this conversation goes south, he knows he’ll be the _last_ person Louis ever sleeps with again. 

“Are you trying to say you want to have a threesome? Because that’s actually very different than having an open relationship, you know,” Louis raises an eyebrow, lips pursed. Briefly, Harry thinks he could totally get off on having Louis correct him all night.

Harry rubs a hand over his face. “I honestly _just_ want to have sex with you,” he tells Louis, silently squirming underneath Louis’ gaze. He’s never bringing any of this up ever again. Fuck anyone who’s said communication makes a relationship better. He briefly spares a thought for the fact that both he and Louis have always been very communicative with each other and thus far, it’s completely strengthened their relationship… but he decides that right now, he really couldn’t give less of a fuck. Communicating sucks. 

Louis watches him for a few long moments, icy blue eyes glued onto Harry. It’s a juxtaposition with how soft Louis actually looks, how warm Harry knows he’d feel if he reached over and tugged Louis down onto his lap. Finally, he’s opening his mouth to speak, dropping his hands to his side. “Well, I’m going to bed,” he says, and Harry knows well enough to know that it doesn’t sound like an invitation. 

Harry watches Louis walk down the small hallway to their bunks, disappearing behind the curtain within the next few moments. 

He knows better than to follow Louis. Louis wants his space, and truthfully, Harry’s probably been a bit of a dick over this. He doesn’t want an open relationship, he’s just… sort of stupid. He’s _always_ been stupid when it comes to telling Louis what he wants. 

Harry likes to think he’s a good communicator. And he is, most of the time. Surprisingly, Louis’ a lot better at communicating than he is. He doesn’t like embarrassment, no, but he’s a little more intune with his emotions than Harry, and he’s a little better at handling them in general. If he wants something from Harry, it doesn’t take him too long to resort to asking Harry clearly. He might be a little shy about it, but he _asks_. 

This just feels like it’s a lot to ask for. He doesn’t even know what he wants to ask for— that’s probably the most frustrating part about this whole thing. He doesn’t know what he wants other than he just wants _more_. Does he want Louis to give more? Does he want to take more from Louis? He really just… doesn’t know. 

Either way, he knows he’s going to have to talk about it. Louis deserves an explanation to why he’s being weird and why he’s just suggested having an open relationship out of nowhere. Harry scrunches his nose in distaste. As if he could handle anyone else touching or even _looking_ at Louis like that. That’s _his_ boy, thank you very much. 

Harry only lasts twenty minutes before he can’t keep himself company in the common area of the bus any longer. Zayn hasn’t returned since he left earlier, he probably assumed that Louis and Harry were still fighting and knowing that if they weren’t, the fighting had probably led to fucking. He’s a smart lad, Harry thinks. 

Either way, Harry isn’t doing a great job at keeping himself busy, especially not when Louis’ upset with him. He doesn’t know how upset Louis actually is, but he knows he doesn’t want this to turn into a bigger argument than it has to be. So, he sucks it up and follows the same path Louis disappeared down just twenty minutes ago, finding the curtain to Louis’ bunk pulled shut. Harry’s bunk is usually used for storage at this point in their relationship. Sometimes for sleeping if they’ve made a little bit of a mess of Louis’ sheets. 

He tugs the curtain open quietly, noticing first that Louis is curled up by the wall of the bunk with his back to the curtain. If Louis had wanted to make it clear that he didn’t want Harry to sleep with him tonight, Harry knows he would’ve made an effort to block Harry’s side of the bunk. After giving Louis a second to tell him off or shoo him away and getting neither, Harry silently climbs into the bunk and settles down against the too-small mattress. Only a few years ago was this a comfortable fit for the both of them. 

He’s sliding up against the smaller boy, hooking a firm arm around Louis’ torso and gently pulling him against his chest. Louis relaxes in his arms at that, and Harry can tell that the boy isn’t sleeping nor is he pretending to either. Harry rests his face against the back of Louis’ neck, pressing his lips against the boy’s skin while Louis’ short hair tickles his forehead. 

“I love you,” Harry reminds softly, voice in a low murmur. The bus is quiet now, the movie having turned off awhile ago. Louis sighs quietly, resting his hand over Harry’s that settles on his stomach before he’s shifting himself around so he’s facing Harry instead. Harry takes that as a win, though. At least Louis wants to look at him, right?

“You make no sense,” Louis mumbles, sliding his hand underneath Harry’s t-shirt. Harry ignores the stunning coldness of Louis’ fingers as they touch his skin, instead opting to press his face into Louis’ hair. He can still smell the shower they took together earlier in the morning, hints of Louis’ vanilla scented shampoo flooding his nose. It’s familiar and relaxing, and Harry just has to take a moment to breathe Louis in.

“I know,” Harry mumbles, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “Was being a little stupid,”—he pauses—“okay, _really_ stupid.”

“A little bit,” Louis says. His eyes are closed when Harry pulls back to glance down at him, and Harry can’t resist bringing a hand up to trace his fingers over Louis’ soft features. Louis’ nose scrunches at the contact but he doesn’t complain or move, allowing Harry’s fingers to gently follow the curve of Louis’ cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. 

“Gonna sound a bit stupid still, I think. When I try to explain it,” Harry admits, pulling back to lay his cheek down on the pillow they’re sharing. His hand stays cupping Louis’ cheek, fingers finding their way into his hair. Louis peeks an eye open as if he’s waiting for Harry to go on. “Just thought we could try some things, I guess. Not that I’m, like, bored or anything. I’m not; wanna clarify before I put my foot in my mouth,” Harry scrunches up his nose, twirling Louis’ hair around his finger. “Would just be fun to try something new.”

Louis’ quiet for a moment. “Something new being someone else?”

Harry’s hand stills, the younger boy frowning as he shakes his head. “No, _fuck_. Baby, no. Lou— just you. I just want you, promise,” Harry sighs, brushing Louis’ hair back and scratching at his scalp gently. “Don’t want anyone else, don’t want an open relationship, don’t want a threesome. I mean, unless _you_ want something like that— probably not the open relationship. I’m not really— I don’t want to share you like that. I think I could deal with the threesome, maybe. ‘Cause it’s, like. You’re still mine, you know? I don’t know,” Harry rambles, and Louis has to cut him off.

“You’re a caveman.”

“ _Sorry_. A little bit,” Harry admits sheepishly. He likes having Louis to himself, okay? He likes the attention, and he’s always gotten way too pouty when his beautiful and hot boyfriend’s attention isn’t on him even for a few moments. Yeah, on second thought, he doesn’t think he’d survive a threesome, truthfully. “It’s a sex thing, I guess. Like— trying new sex things. Not that it sucks either. God, I’m happy, yeah? Like, over the moon, never been happier in my life. But it could be fun just to try something different.”

Louis frowns. “I’m not topping.”

“I— was _not_ going to suggest that,” Harry makes a face, flicking Louis’ ear with his fingers. 

“Are you going to _Fifty Shades_ me?” Louis asks, looking thoughtful at the idea, Harry making a mental note of Louis’ expression. He had no idea that Louis was aware of what was in the book. He has to pay more attention to the books Louis reads. 

“If you like that idea,” Harry offers after a beat. 

“Well, what were you thinking, then?” Louis prompts, tapping his fingers lightly against Harry’s skin. 

“Knickers? Maybe.” Harry coughs. 

Louis squints his eyes at him, looking as if he’s contemplating over his choice of words carefully. “You want to wear knickers?” 

Over the years, Harry’s choice in clothing has expanded. He’s beginning to like the idea that clothes have no gender, that he can wear whatever he wants to be comfortable in. Women’s jeggings are one of them — Harry just likes the tighter fit. He’s also comfortable enough to dress up as Miley Cyrus’ VMA performance outfit for Halloween. So, Harry understands where the question is coming from. Truthfully, Harry doesn’t think his dick would _fit_ in a pair of panties. It’d be awkward, not enough fabric to cover him, and he’d probably have to fix himself all day long. It’s not a great look for him, he thinks. He'd really rather not humor the idea.

“No. Not really. Was thinking they’d look nice on you,” Harry says honestly. 

Apparently, Louis has a similar thought.

“I don’t think my dick could fit comfortably into a pair of knickers, love,” Louis snorts.

“Lou, I don’t really think that’s an—” Harry stops himself, considering his next few words. Louis is looking up at him expectantly and Harry doesn’t need this to be another _incident_. Not when he really wants to see Louis in a pair of knickers. He’s not going to ruin this for himself. “I think they’re going to be roomier than you think.”

Louis’ _tiny_ , is the thing. And Harry loves that. He loves their size difference, loves that he can lift Louis up without a sweat, loves that he practically covers Louis’ body with his own when they cuddle together. He’s small, he’s definitely not five nine, and of course Louis’ lower region is going to, well, correspond. It’s nothing they haven’t noticed before, and it’s definitely nothing that Harry would ever complain about either. He’s in love with Louis’ body, every _inch_ of it, and he’s very much certain that his feelings will never change. 

“Have you seen some of them? I don’t even know what they’re supposed to cover on _women_ ,” Louis shakes his head.

“I think a lot of women actually like wearing thongs,” Harry says honestly.

“I’m not going to argue with you over women’s underwear, babe,” Louis sighs, pinching Harry’s side playfully and smoothing his fingers over the skin before Harry can even make a sound. “You’ve already voiced your opinion. You want to see me in a thong, apparently.”

“Actually, any style is _great_.” 

“Shhh. I heard you. You’ve made your argument,” Louis hushes him, and Harry pouts. He’s not going to force Louis into a pair of women’s undergarments, of course not, but he’ll be very happy if Louis chooses to fulfill this fantasy. He has a feeling it won’t be that easy to convince him. He tries to ignore the sound of his heart breaking in the distance. 

“How about I look into all of the _Fifty Shades_ stuff, alright? And then we can continue this conversation later?” Harry compromises, and Louis hums thoughtfully before shrugging his shoulders. Alright, then. _Fifty Shades_ it is. 

“You’ve got a deal,” Louis says, poking his finger against Harry’s stomach. Harry smiles to himself, running his thumb across Louis’ cheekbone before he’s leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Louis’ forehead. 

“Sorry for being a prick. I love you,” Harry insists, moving his arm to tug Louis closer against his chest. “Gonna sleep now, yeah? You should sleep.” 

“M’kay,” Louis hums, pressing his own soft kiss against Harry’s neck. “I love you, too, you perv.” He smiles, curling himself against Harry’s chest. Harry tucks Louis’ head underneath his chin, closing his eyes as he finally relaxes with the older boy in his arms. 

“You’re the one reading Fifty Shades, apparently.” Harry huffs. Should _he_ be worried?

“Shhhh. Go to sleep,” Louis grins against Harry’s chest. Now, Harry can’t argue with that. 

✰ ✰ ✰

Harry knows something’s up when Louis is pestering him about making plans with the boys. 

“I see them every single day, H. Surely I don’t have to hang out with you guys all the time,” Louis says while he’s sprawled out on their hotel bed. For once, they’ve finally opted to leave the tour bus in favour of a king sized bed. Harry’s back is rather thankful for it, even if it doesn’t stop Louis from hogging every blanket. 

“We’re in the same band, babe, I see them just as much as you do,” Harry frowns, hovering by the bathroom in the midst of brushing his teeth. 

“When’s the last time you’ve hung out with one of them when I wasn’t around?” Louis questions, scrolling through his phone whilst he waits for an answer. 

The question makes Harry think a bit, pausing with the toothbrush in his mouth. He tagged along on a trip to the shops with Niall the other day, just the two of them, but he hasn’t seen the other boys without Louis being around in a while. “I don’t know. Does that matter? We’re all friends. I don’t think it’s that weird that I hang out with my friends and my boyfriend together when we all work together.” He’s not understanding what Louis’ point is.

“Maybe we’re too codependent. We need different friends. You need some friends to hang out with,” Louis hums, peeking up from his phone. 

“I hang out with Jeff,” Harry says, spitting in the sink.

Louis makes a face. “Jeff’s not a friend. He’s— would you like me to be nice?”

“I hang out with Ben.”

“You’re not making this very easy to be nice,” Louis sighs, tipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, he sets his phone down and sits up on the bed, shoulders hunched as he stares boredly at Harry. “H. Babe. Love of my life. _Please_ go and hang out with our friends,” he says.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to come with,” Harry sighs, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. 

“Frankly, I don’t want to move from this bed,” Louis says easily, reaching over to toy with a ringlet of Harry’s hair. “But you should go. Don’t want them to think we’re skipping out on hanging out with them.” That part is believable to a degree, Harry thinks. The amount of nights out they’ve skipped out on just to shag with no interruptions— there’s been too many for Harry to count.

“So, the solution to that is for _me_ to go out with the lads?” Harry raises an eyebrow. 

Louis grins, hand sliding down to cup the side of Harry’s face and pull him closer, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to the side of his head. Even as ridiculous as Louis is being right now, Harry can’t fight the smile that spreads over his lips at the little gesture of affection. God, he’s a sucker for this boy. “Exactly. Glad you’re catching on now,” he hums, nimble fingers tapping against Harry’s cheekbone. 

Harry sighs in defeat. A part of him knows better than to argue with Louis. In reality, he knows that if he insists to stay back with Louis in their very comfortable hotel bed, Louis will do something stupid like leave or push him off the bed or whine until Harry finally leaves. There’s a part of Harry that knows that Louis wants to be left alone for whatever reason right now, and he doesn’t want to overstep. If something’s bothering Louis, he trusts him enough to know that Louis will tell him when he’s up for it. If he’s done something, well, he hopes Louis will end up telling him too. 

For now, though, Louis doesn’t seem to be upset with him. Very insistent on having Harry leave him alone for the day, but he doesn’t seem cross about it. 

“Okay. But I’m going to miss you every moment I’m gone,” Harry tells him, turning his head and puckering his lips up at the smaller boy.

Louis grins. “I won’t,” he says, pinching Harry’s lips together.

Harry just grunts, waiting for Louis to take his hand away. When he does, Harry leans forward to press a quick little kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. He’s pleased even when Louis finally pulls away and pushes him away with his small hands against his chest. 

“Now go. I want a nap,” Louis groans, dramatically falling back onto the mattress once Harry stands from the bed. His shirt rides up on his hips in the process and it almost pains Harry to leave. He does anyway, though, because he knows Louis will grunt and groan otherwise. 

✰ ✰ ✰

He ends up going out to the shops with the boys, knowing that whatever it is, Louis needs some time to himself. He gets like this sometimes, and Harry knows that he’s the same way. As much as he loves spending time with his boy, he needs a little bit of time to himself. He won’t admit it either, but Louis’ right about the last time he’s spent time with the boys alone. It’s not unusual for them to do things as a band, of course not, but he figures that sometimes, it feels more like LouisandHarry, Liam, Niall, and Zayn. Harry just can’t help that he wants his hands all over Louis as often as he can.

It’s a rather nice trip, Harry thinks, once they’re all coming back. Going into downtown Oslo, they hadn’t been spotted once. He and Zayn were able to go into a rustic looking book shop, and although the woman at the register had been giving them a peculiar look, they were left alone. It’s moments like those that Harry appreciates. Just the sheer ability to walk around like a normal person for once.

When they come back to the hotel, it’s a few hours later, just a little after their usual dinner time, and Harry’s carrying a handful of bags into the lift. He’s gone a little overboard, having dragged Liam into a number of clothing shops with him. A few new shirts, a beanie for Louis (apparently, ‘ _Harry’s huge fucking head’_ stretched out his favourite green one), and a headscarf that caught his eye. Among the bags is also a book from the little book shop that he and Zayn visited, one Louis mentioned he was interested to read last week when chatting to Caroline. It’s not _50 Shades of Grey_ , but for now it’ll have to do.

(He’s going to ignore the copy for himself that’s hidden under everything else in his bags. It’s for research.) 

He’s ready to plop on the bed with Louis by the time he gets out of the lift, mumbling to himself as he struggles to find his keycard before finally opening the door to their hotel room. He’s momentarily busy with placing his shopping bags on the nearest chair, shutting the hotel room door with a click. He doesn’t bother to lock it as he’s slipping off his shoes, reasoning that he’ll have to get up for room service when they decide on their dinner. Which is exactly what he plans on asking Louis’ opinion on when he looks up. 

There’s a million situations Harry can imagine himself walking in on. 

One: Louis sleeping. Harry’s lost count of the amount of times he’s returned to their hotel room with a cozy and cocooned Louis in their comfortable bed. The picture of Louis’ relaxed little face squished against white pillows, pretty golden skin against the duvet and tufts of fluffy caramel hair peeking out, always tugs at Harry’s heartstrings. Considering Louis’ obstinate demands for Harry to go out with the boys, this seems the most probable. He’s tired, he’s sleepy, and he doesn’t want to deal with his boyfriend when he’s trying to sleep. Harry gets it.

Two: an empty room. Louis has better things to do than to sit around and wait for his boyfriend to come back from who knows what. Whether he’s gone out himself, or he’s just relaxing with the boys, part of their tour crew, whoever. As shy as Louis can be, Harry thinks he’s able to make friends in his _sleep_. 

Three: Louis fingering himself open. Now, this one doesn’t come around too often — Harry thinks he’d have a heart attack by now if that was the case — but he can surely appreciate it when he does. He remembers the first time it happened — he had gone out to eat with _Jeff_ , just about a year ago, and although Louis had insisted for him to go, Harry knew he wasn’t very happy about it. 

What a better way to punish Harry than to let him walk in on Louis, legs spread with two fingers working in and out of him, practically glaring at the man by the door.

 _See_ , they’re not vanilla. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for this, though. 

Louis’ leaning back against the vanity in their ensuite, legs crossed and extended out, clad in a lacy pair of white stockings that reach his lower thighs, a pair of strappy black heels on his feet. Harry’s eyes trail further up Louis’ body, a black pleated tennis skirt fit over his hips, short enough that Harry knows it must be barely covering Louis’ arse. God, has Louis’ waist always been that tiny? Moving his eyes up, Louis’ dressed in a white, short-sleeved collared button-down, tied across his ribs. Most of the buttons are undone, enough that Harry’s able to see blue lace peeking out from underneath, and — fuck, is that a bralette? Harry knows it has to be a matching set, and he can’t help but trail his eyes down to Louis’ thighs where he’s recrossing his legs, hoping that the skirt rides up enough to see underneath. When his eyes finally reach Louis’ face, he’s able to catch a glimpse of the way Louis’ lips shine with a glossy pink tint. It’s then that he realises that Louis’ definitely wearing mascara, too, and the corner of his eyes are lined with black eye-liner, just slightly so his eyes pop. 

Louis, for the most part, looks unbothered as he glances up from the book he’s holding in one delicate hand, the other resting against the counter, likely being used to brace his weight. Harry’s too distracted to notice, but the way Louis shifts is a tell-tale sign of him being nervous. Especially since Harry’s barely been able to get a sound out. 

Because, yeah, Harry was the one who suggested the panties. But this… this is a lot more than just a pair of panties. God, it’s a lingerie set, heels, and an outfit to match. Not exactly what Harry had suggested in the beginning. Louis has reason to be nervous. 

It’s Louis that speaks first, though, dropping his hand with the book in front of his thighs, tilting his head as he looks over the younger boy. Harry’s eyes follow Louis’ hand, only glancing up when he hears Louis’ voice. “Have fun with the boys?” He questions, voice light and airy. Harry _swears_ he knows what he’s doing. 

Harry just blinks. It takes him a second to even process what Louis has asked him. “What is this?” 

“What is what?” Louis asks, and there’s a little uneasiness there, as if he’s unsure whether he’s made the completely wrong decision. Harry really doesn’t like that. 

Any other day, Harry would be ready to ramble on about his day with the boys and show Louis everything he’s bought, especially the little gifts he’s picked up for Louis just because. But, right now, his cock is overpowering his brain and he’s not too sure if he wants anything more than to shove Louis on the bed right now. 

“ _This_ ,” Harry says, and within seconds, he’s in front of Louis, hovering a hand over Louis’ hip as if he’s scared that if he touches him, it’s not going to be real. From here, Harry can see the makeup a lot clearer. And it looks… flawless. He didn’t think he’d ever get horny over _makeup_. 

Louis just smiles, placing his book down on the vanity and resting his hands on Harry’s chest, taking a moment just to feel over Harry’s t-shirt. “You see,” Louis hums, thumb flicking over Harry’s nipple through the fabric. “I wasn’t very happy with that grade I got back in class. I wanted to discuss it with you.”

And— _shit_. 

Harry wants to marry him. 

“I’m a straight A student, you know. Seeing a B on the top of my paper was a shock,” Louis’ filling the slight silence again, and as frozen as Harry feels, he’s aware enough that he notices the way that Louis is trying to make sure he hasn’t crossed the line. It’s cute, but it’s unnecessary, especially since Harry doesn’t want to be the one who ruins the mood. Louis’ dressed up for him, fueling some fantasy that Harry hasn’t thought about since he was, _God_ , probably sixteen and still watching heterosexual porn. 

“You know, sweetheart, I only give out A’s to those who deserve it,” Harry tells him, finally placing his hands on the smaller boy’s curvy hips, tugging him closer and away from the vanity. “But you’re welcome to try and convince me why your paper deserved such a high grade.” 

In seconds, Harry can recognise the hesitation leaving Louis’ body, seeing the slight relief in the boy’s expression. As if Harry would be anything less than horny and excited over seeing Louis in such an outfit. He’s not going to say it, but Louis’ definitely a bit of an idiot for thinking anything else. “Don’t exactly know why you aren’t convinced already,” Louis hums simply, placing his own hand onto Harry’s larger one and dragging it down to rest on his bare leg, just underneath his skirt. There’s a smirk on Louis’ glossy pink lips as he watches the gears turn in Harry’s head, seeing the second Harry realises that he’s shaved bare.

Harry’s sure he’s not going to get out of this alive at this point. 

There’s a part of Harry that’s trying not to just jizz his pants at the thought of Louis’ bare legs, hopelessly trying not to think about what else he shaved. Louis doesn’t do things in parts, no. He never half-asses anything, and Harry just knows he’d go all in for this too. If he thinks too much, stares too much, he’s not going to be able to touch or experience any of this. Naturally, he forces himself back into his role, stroking his fingertips over Louis’ smooth thigh absently. 

“Is that so?” Harry hums thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow as he walks himself back towards the bed, guiding Louis with him. “Thought that you’d be able to convince me by just walking in here all pretty and demanding, didn’t you?” Harry sits himself down on the edge of the bed, reluctant to take his hands off of Louis. Unfortunately, he does, opting to rest his hands behind him, leaning back to take in the complete image of the little slut in front of him. “Give me a little spin, baby. Let’s see how convincing you can be.”

Harry watches as Louis rolls his eyes, but he does a little twirl, does what he’s been told. Harry can’t take his eyes off of him, trailing over the obvious dip of Louis’ waist, the hairless skin of Louis’ legs. The boy’s skirt lifts up a bit with the movement, and it’s quick but there’s a flash of lace, and Harry really hopes he hasn’t imagined it.

“Now, what are you hiding under there, angel?’ Harry murmurs, chin tilting up as Louis faces him again. Absently, he’s impressed with Louis’ balance with the heels. In no way are they short or look easy to walk in, but Louis’ moving around with ease, spinning around when Harry tells him to without stumbling. He’s trying not to think about whether or not Louis’ worn those before— or anything like this, in that matter. In his head, he’s just going to convince himself that Louis is just naturally talented at anything he tries. To be fair, he doesn’t think that’s too off course for the older boy anyway.

“Not hiding anything,” Louis tells him easily, shifting his weight and clasping his hands in front of himself. Harry didn’t know it was possible, but Louis’ hands look even more delicate than usual like this. Dainty and small, Harry thinks Louis looks like he belongs in this outfit. He watches as Louis’ hands move up to untie his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders with an innocent smile— innocent enough that it just seems dirty. Harry feels like he’s in another world when Louis says, “I’ll show you, if you’d like.”

With the boy’s shirt off and falling to the floor, Harry’s now focused on the bralette that’s stretched across Louis’ frame delicately, the light blue lace standing out against his skin and the black ink of his tattoos. Harry notices immediately that the usual light dusting of hair against Louis’ chest is gone, and if that information doesn’t go _straight_ to his dick. Harry barely gets a moment to let that sink into his brain before Louis’ unzipping the skirt and letting it fall, stepping out of bunched up fabric, kicking it to the side with his heel-cladded foot. 

Harry can’t control the strangled noise that comes out of his mouth as his eyes fall to Louis’ waist, lips parting at the sight of the matching lacy knickers fitted over the older boy’s hips. In the vanity, there’s a clear view of the lace over Louis’ arse, and Harry honestly forgets how to breathe at the sight. They fit gorgeously, stretched over Louis’ already perfect bum, and Harry’s struggling to hold himself back from touching every inch of Louis he can reach. 

“Think you’ve got a little too much on now,” Louis tells him, cheekily slipping onto Harry’s lap and straddling his hips. Harry’s hands immediately go to grab at Louis’ thighs, while Louis pushes up the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt teasingly. “It’s unfair, don’t you think?” Louis pouts. Harry really wants to lean forward and kiss Louis, wants to taste Louis’ cherry lip gloss that he can smell from here. 

“Spoilt brat,” Harry tuts, reluctantly taking his hands away from Louis’ thighs to tug his shirt off. Once it’s off, Louis’ leaning forward to kiss up Harry’s chest, and it’s not too long before Harry feels a small hand feeling around his lap, blindly searching for his cock through his jeans. It doesn't take Louis long to find it, Harry’s already very much hard, groaning at the touch. “Gonna have to work a little harder to get what you want, sweetheart,” he tells him, hand sliding behind him and unclasping the bralette, letting it slide down Louis’ arms and leaning behind him to hook on the bedpost. What? It’s too pretty to be left in a place Harry can’t see it. 

“Think you’ll give it to me no matter what,” Louis hums sweetly, but he’s sliding off Harry’s hips then, taking no time to hesitate before he’s tugging Harry’s jeans and boxers off in a swift motion. Harry helps kick them off completely in an effort to help, mostly because he really just wants his hands back on Louis.

Louis’ hand wraps around Harry’s cock unexpectedly, and when Harry blinks, the next thing he sees (andfeels _, shit_ ) is Louis’ lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Harry chokes out a groan, clenching his fist in an effort not to grab at Louis’ hair. 

He sucks teasingly around the head, sliding his tongue over the slit just as Harry likes. Louis sucking his cock is a beautiful sight on a normal night. But right now, with Louis glancing up at him through mascara-coated lashes and glossy lips sliding over the length of his cock, Harry’s not sure he’s breathing. 

And he’s almost certain that he’s ready to come right there. 

“Fuck— c’mere, Lou,” Harry groans quietly, hips stuttering as Louis continues to tease his cock. “Wanna fuck you, pretty. Don’t wanna come like this,” he insists, his voice embarrassingly urgent. By the way Louis smirks when he finally pops off of Harry’s cock, Harry can tell that he didn’t miss that detail either. 

“Yeah?” Louis murmurs when he’s straddling Harry seconds later, rocking his hips down against Harry’s to elicit a moan from the younger boy. “Wanna wreck me, don’t you? Pin me down and just destroy me? Or do you wanna watch me bounce on your cock? Make me work for it?” Louis moans as he shifts his hips against Harry’s.

Harry’s way too distracted by every possibility that Louis has just listed and the sheer friction of Louis’ cock rutting against his own that he doesn’t even hear the door open behind them. 

“Listen, the lads want to know if you’d rather _Batman Begins_ or _Batman Fore_ — fucking hell,” Niall chokes, the blonde-haired boy now frozen in the middle of their doorway. The door that Harry conveniently forgot to lock.

Harry’s head tips back in a groan, one that sounds a little too sensual for his own good right now, his hands tightening on Louis’ hips to still the older boy on top of him. 

And fuck. _Louis_. 

“Jesus Christ, _Niall_ ,” Louis hisses, eyes glaring down hard against Harry’s chest. Harry can tell he’s avoiding any sort of eye contact with either of them, can see the way Louis’ flushed red to his chest. Even with his cock out, Harry doesn’t think he wants to disappear more than Louis must right now.

Briefly, he doesn’t think it’s that bad. It’s not the first time that any of the boys have seen the two of them in the act. Niall’s always been the most relaxed about it, not hesitating to have a proper conversation with them while shielding his eyes (or not). Liam, on the other hand, always looks like he’s about to pop an artery when he walks in on them, tries to insist that they need some _boundaries_ or better door locks. No amount of boundaries are going to keep Harry from fingering Louis in the bunks on their tour bus, though. Zayn’s a lot more relaxed about it these days on the other hand, barely blinking when the two of them get a little handsy in front of him. Especially when they’re all having a smoke. 

Much to Louis’ dismay, it hadn’t been much of a surprise to Zayn that he was on the bottom the first time he had walked in on him and Harry. _“You’re not fooling anyone, Lou,”_ Zayn had snorted that night, shrugging his shoulders. _“Nothing wrong with having something up your arse. Not any less of a lad.”_ Zayn had promised.

Harry likes to think that a school girl outfit doesn’t make Louis any less of a lad either. And he’ll be damned if Niall is about to ruin this for him. 

From the doorway, Niall can’t see the way Louis’ shaved every inch of his body, how smooth his legs are to the touch. He can’t see the light layer of lip gloss on the older boy’s lips and he can’t smell the cherry scent Harry gets a whiff of every time Louis leans close to him. He definitely can’t see how pretty his eyes look with the dark mascara coated on his eyelashes, how the beautiful blue colour of his iris pops more than usual. 

What Niall can see, however, is the rumpled school girl outfit laying on the floor of their hotel room, just in front of the foot of the bed, and the lacy bralette that’s hooked over the corner. What he can see is the pretty, light blue pair of knickers Louis’ currently sporting, contrasting the beautiful golden tan of his skin. Harry wants to take a bite out of him. 

So, maybe it’s a little bad. 

It’s definitely bad.

“If you don’t fucking leave, I’m going to—” Louis’ voice is nearing shrill, reaching forward to chuck a pillow blindly towards the doorway, and for a moment, Harry’s concerned he’s about to witness a murder. A murder while wearing nothing more than blue lacy knickers. God, Harry almost wants to see that. He’d help hide the body if it meant Louis got to stay in these panties. 

But for the sake of _everyone_ , Harry’s hooking a firm arm around Louis’ waist and flipping them over so he’s hovering over Louis instead and keeping him hidden from sight, and unfortunately, most likely giving Niall an eyeful of his bare arse. The things he does for Louis, he swears. “Niall, this isn’t the time,” Harry’s own voice sounds exasperated, but he’s more focused on the smaller boy beneath him. The boy who he knows is seeing red right now. 

“God, yeah — we’ll, uh. Movie night _tomorrow_. Have fun, lads,” Niall manages, and the door slams shut then. Harry considers getting up and locking it, but that would mean leaving Louis on the bed alone and he’s decently sure that Niall is going to tell the lads that they’re busy anyway. He can only hope that Niall chooses not to be descriptive. 

“Hey,” Harry murmurs, green eyes scanning over Louis’ face. Louis is looking to the ceiling, a dark flush dusting his chest, neck, and face. He looks beautiful, Harry notes to himself, but he can tell that Louis definitely doesn’t want to hear that right now. He brings his hand up carefully, brushing his knuckles over Louis’ jawline. “We don’t have to do this. We can stop, go take a shower, even a bath. It’s okay,” Harry reminds Louis. Just because they’ve started doesn’t mean they have to finish. Especially considering Harry can tell that Louis isn’t as close to being as comfortable as he was just minutes earlier. 

It’s a shame, he thinks, only because Louis looks _gorgeous_. He wonders how much he’d have to sacrifice in order to convince Louis to wear something like this every day. Whether it’s the lip gloss or the knickers. 

Louis lifts his hands towards his face before stopping in mid-air, Harry figuring that the boy remembers he’s wearing makeup before he goes to rub and mess it all up. It’s a promising thought, Harry thinks. The older boy lets out a huff, shaking his head with a little frown on his pink lips. “Sorry,” he mumbles, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s wrist, keeping the younger boy’s hand close to him. 

Harry frowns, shaking his head in response. He leans down, nudging his nose against Louis’ before he’s pressing his mouth to Louis’ in a soft kiss. He tries not to smile when he feels the stickiness of the lip gloss against his lips. Never once did he imagine that he would be excited to feel lip gloss on the person he was kissing. “Nothing to be sorry for,” Harry promises, lips brushing over Louis’ as he speaks, continuing to brush his knuckles over Louis’ jawline. Whether they continue or not, he doesn’t want Louis to apologise for it. This is _a lot_ , this is new territory, and as excited and turned on as they were in the beginning, Harry recognises that Louis’ comfort matters the most. “You’re gorgeous, you know? Look rather pretty,” he tells him.

Louis snorts then, and Harry has to frown because _no_ , Louis can’t be thinking he’s anything other than gorgeous right now. “M’serious,” Harry huffs, dipping his head down to bite at Louis’ jawline then, the older boy letting out a little hurt noise. His boyfriend is as dramatic as ever.

“Prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, hm?” Louis suggests. When Harry pulls back, he can see the hint of a smile on Louis’ face. Alright, he’s getting somewhere now. As long as they end the night with a smile on Louis’ face, Harry could care less about what happens to his dick. One thing is for sure; regardless of whether they continue, his cock is not going to go down as long as Louis is wearing those knickers. 

“Prettiest _boy_ I’ve ever seen,” Harry corrects with a smile. “And prettiest girl. Prettiest _person_ ,” Harry adds, and he’s shifting onto his side, head in a hand and hooking an arm around Louis’ waist just to keep him close. He’s being a little too sappy for having his cock out right now. “I like these a lot, though,” he traces a finger over the lacy waistband, noting the contrast between Louis’ soft skin and the rough lace. “And _this_ ,” Harry grins when his hand comes down to stroke over Louis’ thigh.

Louis rolls his eyes at the feeling of Harry’s hand just stroking over his thigh, turning his head to properly meet Harry’s gaze. God, the mascara. Harry almost forgets how to breathe for a second. “Good. ‘Cause it took so bloody long,” Louis huffs. “Nicked myself a few times, too. Dunno how girls do that all the time.”

“I’d do it for you all the time,” Harry insists, ready to sit by the bath and shave Louis’ legs for the rest of his life. Louis just giggles, bringing a hand up to push Harry’s face away. He’s won.

“It took, like. An hour and a half. At _least_. And I went through two razors,” Louis shakes his head, and Harry can’t help but pout. 

Harry laughs. “You don’t even have that much hair in the first place. Swear it looks like you shave your legs already,” he tells him, and it’s true. Sometimes Harry has to do a double take when Louis’ legs are bare.

Louis just sighs, flicking Harry’s cheek gently. “The things I do for you, Styles,” he tells him, and Harry would generally feel bad about the idea of Louis feeling like he needs to do things in order to keep Harry pleased, but Louis has a smile on his face and it’s enough to let him know that Louis is just messing with him. 

“I’m so lucky,” Harry promises, leaning forward to steal another kiss. “Seriously. And — _shit_ , you look so fucking fit.”

“Think so? Would’ve never guessed,” Louis teases, and before Harry knows it, Louis’ hand is wrapping around his cock and yeah, he’s definitely winning today. “S’not like your knob’s been rock hard for the past hour or anything. Didn’t even go down when Niall bloody interrupted. Bet you liked that, too. God, I’d bet you’d like an audience.” 

An audience could be nice, Harry thinks. He likes the idea of making a show of it all, and he’s not too shy about being naked in front of others. The boys have seen his dick too many times to count and it doesn’t phase him. Part of him likes the idea a lot, but the other part of him knows that while their sex lives aren’t anything new to the people they surround themselves with, it’s a lot to decide to offer up this part of their relationship. And then there’s the fact that, well, as much as he likes to show Louis off, there’s some things he likes to keep for himself. His bum and dick being some of those things. 

Compared to Harry, Louis is a lot more reserved about sex and all that comes with it. While it’s one thing to get walked in on, it’s another thing to have other people’s noses in their sex life. Harry knows his boundaries when it comes to all of this. Teasing each other in front of the boys is okay, making out in front of the boys is okay, but as soon as Louis (or Harry, really) feels like they’re going to start moaning, it’s time to find some privacy. 

“Oh my God, you’re thinking about it,” Louis says, twisting his hand hard enough to get Harry’s full attention.

Moving his hand over Louis’ waist, Harry settles it over the boy’s bum, going absolutely feral at the feeling of the lace underneath his palm. “I’m not thinking about anything,” Harry lies, gripping one of Louis’ arse cheeks. “Like it better when you’re all mine,” Harry tells him. “How do you expect me not to stay hard when you’re looking like this, Lou? It’s unfair,” he whines, leaning forward to nip at the boy’s neck. 

“I think you’re just a horny bastard,” Louis hums, stroking Harry slowly and rubbing his thumb over the tip on his upstrokes. If Harry pulls away and looks down, he knows he’d barely be able look away from the image of Louis’ smaller hand barely fitting around his cock. 

“And I think you’re a brat,” Harry hums, biting down on Louis’ jawline just light enough that he’s sure it won’t leave a mark. “A brat who gets what he wants even if he doesn’t deserve it,” Harry tells him, keeping his voice steady even as Louis teases the sensitive tip of his cock. “A brat who’s gonna let me bend him over my desk just so he can get that perfect mark he thinks he deserves.”

“Too bad you don’t have a desk,” Louis muses, twisting his hand again. Harry sighs, pulling away from the older boy’s neck to give him a playful little glare. He’s annoying, but he’s right. God, does Harry wish he had a desk right now. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” Harry retorts, hands moving up to Louis’ waist and hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of Louis’ knickers. A part of him wants to keep them on Louis but another part of him doesn’t want them to get ruined. Hey, if he can convince Louis to wear these more often, why not? Why let a good pair of knickers go to waste?

Louis huffs. “I’m a very good student,” he tells him, barely batting an eye as he’s lifting up his hips to help Harry peel off his knickers. “In fact, I don’t think this is any of my fault. If I was a student, you’d be the one distracted,” Louis grins, plopping his hips back down on the mattress.

And, well. It’s _true_. If Harry was a professor, he’d be terribly distracted by the pretty boy in his classroom. In fact, he’s sure he’d be tempted to break a few university rules. God, would Harry struggle not to drag Louis onto his desk every class for a shag.

Good thing they’re singers instead.

“You’d be _mouthy_ ,” Harry tells him, carefully tossing the panties to the side. “You’d argue with me, you’d call me by my first name.”

“You’d tell us to call you Harry. ‘Cause you’d think _Dr. Styles_ would be too stuffy,” Louis argues, raising a playful eyebrow. “God knows you’d cream your pants if you heard _Professor Styles_ or _sir_ come out of my mouth,” he hums. 

Harry would quite literally turn in his two weeks notice if he had to deal with Louis calling him _sir_ all day with no release. But he can dream, okay?

“You were so cooperative before,” Harry groans, almost whining as he’s leaning up to grab their little bottle of lube on the nightstand. It’s easier to have it out and at this point, neither of them care if one of the boys sees it. Everyone’s very much aware that he and Louis have a very healthy sexual relationship. There’s no need to hide condoms or lube. 

“You called me a brat,” Louis rolls his eyes. “And Niall saw me in women’s underwear and _makeup_. It’s been a very traumatic few minutes.”

“I know, baby,” Harry pouts, leaning down to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek and squeezing the older boy’s hip. “I’m sure he thought you looked very nice.”

“Don’t tell me what Niall thinks. I don’t want to know what Niall thinks.”

Harry sighs. “Alright, baby. Are you gonna let me put it in you?”

“No, you don’t have a desk. Was kind of looking forward to being bent over Professor Styles’ desk. You should’ve planned this better,” Louis hums, knocking his knee against Harry’s hip. Harry takes a moment to slide a hand over the boy’s thigh, and yeah, he’d definitely shave Louis’ legs all the time if Louis would let him. 

“That’s not even— _you_ were the one who planned all this,” Harry rolls his eyes, sitting back and unscrewing the cap to the lube. 

“You were the one who gave me a B on my paper when it deserved an A,” Louis argues, and Harry can tell he regrets it the moment he sees Harry’s smirk crawl onto his face.

“I can give you a _D_ now.”

Louis groans, tipping his head back in exasperation. Harry, of course, can tell that the older boy is fighting a smile. It’s difficult being this funny, Harry knows it. 

“And you can give me this _A_ now,” Harry teases, slipping his hand up to grab at Louis’ arse. 

“You know, I was actually going to let you fuck me before. Too bad you opened your mouth again,” Louis sighs, pushing his hand against Harry’s chest. There’s a smile on his face though, and Harry knows this is all okay.

Harry leans down for a kiss, one that’s much softer than the ones they shared before Niall interrupted. It’s not the roleplaying either of them expected today, Harry’s sure, but he can’t say he’s disappointed one bit. When he’s got a boy willing to put on some lingerie for him, Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to complain. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel the need to. 

“I really like the lip gloss. Fuck, do you know how lucky I am?” Harry murmurs when he pulls away, a smile spreading across his lips when he catches sight of the rosy colouring tinting Louis’ cheeks. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Thought that even before you put this all on,” Harry insists, and Louis just shakes his head, placing his hands on the sides of Harry’s neck, thumbs resting on his jaw. 

“If I let you fuck me, can you stop being so sappy?” Louis smiles, and Harry just laughs, stealing another little kiss while Louis still lets him.

“Nope. Always gonna be sappy when it comes to you,” Harry promises, leaning back again and refinding the lube that he discarded earlier. “But I hope you’ll still let me fuck you.”

Louis sighs, letting his head roll to the side. “Think I’d rather just find another professor who’s going to fuck me _and_ give me an A on my papers,” he says, but he’s spreading his legs anyway, and that gives Harry the okay he’s looking for. 

“Gonna open your pretty legs for anyone, hm?” Harry tuts, slipping a finger inside of the boy without warning. Louis’ tight, he always is, and Harry never gets sick of feeling the little bit of resistance. “And to think I was the luckiest boy in the world just a few minutes ago,” he sighs. 

Louis hums, eyebrows furrowing a little bit in concentration as he feels Harry’s finger move around a bit inside of him. It’s cute, and Harry could watch Louis’ facial expressions all day. He waits a little bit before he starts to get a little squirmy, knocking his knee against Harry’s side once again to hurry the boy up. “Can add another. M’not a virgin.”

“No? Came barging into my office like you’ve never been fucked before,” Harry murmurs, squeezing in a second finger. It’s already a tight squeeze, but Louis is relaxing. After years of this, he thinks he knows Louis’ body better than his own. “Made it your mission to get fucked, didn’t you? Don’t think you would’ve left my office without at least gagging on my cock,” Harry taunts, working his fingers in and out of the smaller boy slowly and pressing firmly everywhere he knows will knock the breath out of Louis.

That part’s his favourite, Harry’s convinced. As much as he loves to hear Louis talk (he truly doesn’t get sick of listening to the older boy, his voice is much too pretty to get bored of), he really does love the stark contrast in his personality before and after he’s got something in his arse. He’s always soft words, gentle touches, and fluttery eyelashes. He’s warm to the touch, iridescent golden skin against white sheets, and soft hums when he’s too tired to speak. The fact that Harry can get Louis to react like this — Harry owes the universe a lot of gratitude. 

When Louis’ about to speak, Harry’s pushing in a third finger. It’s a little too quick, he realises that, but he also knows well enough that it’s not going to hurt Louis too much. Harry’s learned over the years that Louis actually likes the sting, gets off on it a bit. It’s Harry that likes to take his time opening Louis up. 

If he’s being completely honest, he just likes being inside of Louis. Even if it’s just his fingers staying constant. 

“Fuckin’,” Louis hisses as Harry brushes his fingers over his prostate, digging his own fingernails into Harry’s back. “Just — _fuck_. Fuck me, please. Just do it already.”

“So greedy,” Harry tuts, but he knows he’s always going to give Louis what he asks for. “Demanding an A and now you’re demanding my cock. Who’s going to put you in your place?” Harry taunts, taking his fingers away and ignoring the way Louis falters at the loss of feeling. God, losing the tight heat around his fingers is nothing Harry takes lighty either.

If he could lazily finger Louis all day, he would. 

Then again, it’s something he can bring up later.

“Lucky for you, I’m feeling quite generous,” Harry hums, running his hand over Louis’ thigh, dragging his lube-wet fingers over the boy’s smooth skin. _Hairless_. “Know you’re already so wet for me, aren’t you, baby? Would be a shame if I didn’t give you what you wanted,” he says, and he’s finally grabbing his own cock then, lubing himself up generously. Louis was right — his cock hadn’t gone down one bit even when Niall had walked in on them. But with Louis looking like _this_ in front of him, how could he be blamed?

Within seconds and without any resistance from Louis, he’s pushing inside of the boy, groaning as he pushes in inch by inch. Louis’ mouth falls open as Harry just about splits him open, and without hesitating, Harry’s slotting their lips together in a kiss. It’s filthy without even trying to be, and Harry can’t hold back the noise he makes when he feels the lip gloss smudge over his own lips. 

“Always so perfect for me, aren’t you? Should’ve given you that A,” Harry grunts into the kiss when he bottoms out, taking a moment to revel in the feeling of Louis’ tight heat around him. He’ll never get sick of this. 

“Should’ve,” Louis tries to huff, but it comes out more like a shaky moan, and for a second, Harry finds it completely endearing. “Wanna— _shit_ , move, just move. Can take it,” Louis rambles in his next breath, and that’s really all Harry needs before he’s starting up a steady and somewhat unforgiving rhythm. As much as he’s always in the mood for smothering Louis in kisses and slow touches, the idea of fucking Louis hard into the mattress is nothing he can combat against. 

Louis’ barely able to make a sound as Harry’s thrusting inside of him, broken gasps and moans, the only noises that are daring to come out of his mouth. It’s intense, and Harry wants to completely devour him, wants to completely destroy him. Split him open, make him see stars. Even Harry’s overwhelmed. 

“Learned my lesson, didn’t I, lovely? Took my own frustrations out on your grade. So fucking hard not to just bend you over my desk every day of class,” Harry grunts, hands bruising Louis’ hips as he relentlessly slams into the smaller boy, cock nudging over Louis’ prostate with every stroke.

“Harry,” Louis chokes out, hands trying to find purchase on Harry’s back. He can feel the blunt crescent shapes Louis’ pressing into his skin.

“Such a little angel. Taught me a lesson, didn’t you? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist this,” Harry groans. When he looks down, he’s met with Louis’ angelic face, blue eyes hidden by his eyelids as he’s being shifted up the bed with every thrust of Harry’s hips. 

It only takes Louis a few more thrusts before he’s gasping out incomprehensible words and curses, body seizing with pleasure underneath Harry as his orgasm takes over him. It’s a beautiful sight, it always is, and Harry just wants to watch Louis come for him forever and ever. 

“Look at you. So beautiful, Lou. So, so lucky,” Harry groans, and it’s a minute or so later before Harry’s finally following with one last and hard thrust, cum pulsing deep inside of the smaller boy. His own body’s shaking with the intensity, and he’s draping himself over Louis within the next few moments, catching his breath with his face pressed against Louis’ neck. 

Louis’ soft and pliant underneath him, barely makes anything more than a weak noise when Harry’s body weight settles on top of him. Harry’s still buried inside of his hole, the smaller boy’s cock trapped between their stomachs. 

“Better get an A after that,” Louis mutters quietly. Harry laughs softly into his neck, nodding his head without a second thought. 

“Getting an A in the class, Lou, promise,” he tells him, resting his hand on Louis’ side. “Should probably take your makeup off, baby,” Harry murmurs, nose pressed against the boy’s jaw as he stays draped over him. It’s an empty suggestion, Harry’s not really planning to get up unless he’s forced to. Good thing there’s no movie night tonight. 

Louis hums, resting his cheek against Harry’s head for a second. Harry can tell that he’s trying to search through his brain for the words to speak. “Later,” he mumbles. They’ll be up in a few hours anyway. At this point, most of the lip gloss has worn off (Harry’s sure that he’s sporting some of it on his own lips by now) and he can deal with the little bit of eyeliner and mascara for now. 

Harry hums, dragging his hand up and down Louis’ side absently, fingers tickling over Louis’ smooth and soft armpit. God, he’s even attracted to Louis’ _armpits_. “Alright, peach,” he says, lips brushing over the boy’s skin. “Not gonna move, then.” The _not going to pull out_ goes without being said. Especially by the way Louis makes a little noise when he understands what Harry _really_ means, his hole subconsciously clenching around him. Harry has to ignore the way he twitches inside of Louis for the smaller boy’s sake, instead tugging the duvet over their bodies and covering them for the night.

✰ ✰ ✰

The next morning starts out great, to say the very least. Harry wakes up with his cock still nestled inside of the older boy, half-hard and warm all over. He’s up before Louis, so he happily takes the time to just watch Louis sleep. He insists it’s not creepy after every time Louis catches him doing it. In his defense, if Louis could see himself sleeping, Harry thinks he’d understand. When Louis wakes up that morning, however, he tells Harry to move, and Harry’s pouting as he moves to pull out, only for Louis to grab at his arm to stop him and whine, “not _that_ way.” 

So with a little added lube, Harry enjoys a very lazy morning fuck with Louis. It ends with Louis’ whining for a shower whilst Harry just wants to spend the next hour cuddling underneath the covers and enjoying Louis’ warmth. After complaining about how hot and gross it is and a very explicit description about the cum dripping out of his arse (which doesn’t do much to make Harry squirm, only turns him on), Louis finally convinces Harry to get up and into the shower with him. It turns out to be a good idea considering that as soon as they get out of the shower, they get a knock on their door, telling them to be ready and in the car in twenty minutes.

On their way out, Harry briefly hopes that they don’t get maid service for the day else they’re in for a bit of a surprise with the pieces of clothing on the floor. Either way, he’ll prepare himself to find an article with the headline: _Harry Styles’ and mystery school girl’s kinky night_. 

Louis in panties. Louis in a skirt. Louis in makeup. It’s all that Harry can think about. Judging by the way Niall avoids eye contact with Louis, Harry can tell that he’s not the only one thinking about that. 

Louis isn’t amused at all, though, and for someone who was acting very shy last night, it’s clear that Louis doesn’t want things to be weird. Especially to the point where his bandmate can’t look him in the eye. 

It gets to the point where Niall’s squirming underneath Louis’ gaze, daring Niall to say something, to even just look at him for a second. In a cramped car, the tension is nearly palpable. 

“I’m not going to say anything! Stop looking at me like that,” Niall complains, crammed between the car door and Harry. When Harry glances across, he’s met with the sight of Louis just about burning holes through Niall’s skin from where he’s squished between Zayn and Liam. 

“What? What are we hiding?” Liam frowns, nudging Louis’ side and looking between Niall and Louis for the answer. He’s not going to find it there, Harry’s almost certain. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Louis narrows his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. Zayn’s arm hooks over his shoulders a second later, forearm dangling against the smaller boy’s chest. Louis settles against Zayn’s side, eyes still trained on the blonde boy across from them. 

“I walked in on them having sex again,” Niall says after a beat of hesitation.

Liam still looks confused. “Why’s this different from every other time we’ve seen them having sex?” Liam asks, and oh, Harry knows Liam really doesn’t want to know the answer to this one. 

“I really don’t think we need to talk about our sex life right now,” Harry chimes in, and Louis nods in agreement. The boys have arguably seen them together more times than Harry would be happy to admit. In their defense, they’re young, horny, and in love with barely any privacy. Might as well have sex as much as they can while they’re still fit and up for it, right? Then again, Harry thinks he’ll still be very much attracted to Louis twenty years from now. He can’t imagine what it’d be like to not constantly want his hands all over him. 

Niall’s gone silent then, and Harry almost thinks they’re in the clear. Liam is back to scrolling through his phone, and Zayn is whispering something to Louis that makes the older boy giggle. They’re going to get through this car ride without a murder. 

But then Niall’s covering his face with his sweatshirt, taking in a breath and on his exhale, Harry hears him mutter, “Louis was wearing knickers.” 

Liam’s phone clatters to the floor of the car. 

If they had all been in conversation, Harry’s sure that everyone would’ve missed it. He almost wishes that was the case. Niall could get it out of his system and off of his mind, and Louis wouldn’t relive the mortification of last night. 

“Oh my god,” Louis covers his face. 

Liam’s cheeks are red, and Harry’s own hand comes up to rub over his face. “I mean— that’s different, right? Is it different?” Liam asks, and Harry is really having second thoughts about how much their bandmates know about Louis and Harry’s sex life. 

“Is this why we moved movie night to tonight?” Liam adds with a frown, glancing between the couple.

“Niall doesn’t knock! We were— we would’ve finished up before then!” Harry argues, though he’s not sure how true it is. They would’ve had the intention of finishing up, Harry’s sure. Niall was the one that decided on rescheduling. That’s not their fault. 

“Please stop talking about this,” Louis drops his hands to his lap, closing his eyes.

“I would’ve missed movie night to see Louis in knickers, too,” Zayn shrugs his shoulders, and Harry narrows his eyes. 

“You said you weren’t gonna say anything!” Louis glares at Niall, and Niall groans from underneath his hoodie.

“It’s a lot to keep inside!” The blonde boy argues, and fair enough, Harry thinks. Seeing Louis in knickers sort of takes over a person’s mind. Harry knows that firsthand. 

Liam slowly moves to pick up his phone as if he’s trying to make sure Louis won’t explode at any sort of movement. “Niall’s gotten it out, alright? We’re not going to mention it outside of the car, right? It stays between us.” he says.

“Would’ve liked it to have stayed between me and Lou,” Harry mumbles. 

“I’m sure you looked really nice,” Zayn says, raising his hand to brush his knuckles over Louis’ cheek. In the back of his mind, Harry really doesn’t like the idea of anyone, even his bandmates who have seen Louis naked, thinking about what Louis looks like in knickers. He also really doesn’t want anyone who’s not himself complimenting Louis in them. But Louis seems to like what Zayn’s said, the smaller boy’s cheeks are a soft pink, and right now, it doesn’t look like Louis is about to launch himself forward and attack Niall, so he’ll tone down his jealousy. Zayn can live for now too. 

“It’s not weird,” Zayn adds, and Harry’s not sure how he does it, but somehow, Zayn always says the things that Louis needs to hear. He’s amazed how Zayn always knows exactly what to say at exactly what time. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen Zayn have a case of word vomit. Truthfully, he’s a bit jealous. “Wear whatever you want, babes, it’s all cool. Even if it’s just a sex thing.”

“He looked good. Am I allowed to say that?” Niall asks, glancing at Harry. Harry frowns, but Niall takes that as a cue to continue. “You looked really good, Lou. Just wasn’t expecting to walk in on _that_.”

Liam’s the one who seems to be trying to keep the car together. “Can we move past this now? Before Harry pops an artery or something? We’ve established that it’s not weird, Louis looked good, and Harry and Louis do a lot more in the bedroom than we thought. No more comments,” Liam shakes his head, and Harry opens his mouth to say something, but Liam points at him threateningly. “No more,” he repeats.

Harry grumbles, crossing his own arms over his chest and leaning back against the seat. 

His mood only perks up once they’re getting out of the car and Louis leans over to smack a kiss to Harry’s cheek, whispering a beat later the offer to blow him before movie night if Harry can keep a smile on his face for their interviews today.

As if there’s anything Harry won’t do for a blowjob from Louis. It’s going to be a good day.

✰ ✰ ✰

After their exciting and successful (at least Harry _thinks_ it was successful) school-girl roleplay, Harry wasn’t expecting Louis to initiate anything else. They’ve spiced things up for once, they’ve made things new and exciting, and now it was time to get back into routine. To Harry’s surprise, though, that’s not the case. 

After an interview last week, Louis dragged Harry into the toilets, shoving him into an empty stall before dropping to his knees. Their mics were still attached to their shirts, and Harry could’ve only hoped that they weren’t still turned on. 

It wasn’t the first time that they'd disappeared from an interview for a shag or something of the sort, but it had been forever since the last time they did. Over the years, they’d gotten only a _little_ bit better at not wanting to shove each other into closets and toilets constantly. Harry likes to think they have a little more self control these days. 

But now they’re _here_. 

Here being Harry currently rummaging through his bag for the scarves he _knows_ he has after Louis unwrapped the one on his head, a curious smile on his face when he wrapped it over his wrists, hiding the ends of fabric in his palms and holding his arms out towards Harry. “You wanna?” Louis had asked, a playful glint in his pretty blue eyes while Harry had to focus on not wanting to come in his pants at the sheer idea of tying Louis up. 

Once he’s finally found another scarf, he makes his way back to the bed to where Louis’ already undressed (God, he’s so lucky) and waiting for him, laying the scarves down in front of him. 

“I— safe word, maybe? Feel like we should have a safe word,” Harry tells him as he’s shoving his own pants off, ignoring Louis’ little eye roll at the idea of having a safe word. Maybe he’s doing a little too much by insisting that they have a safe word, but the last thing he wants is to hurt the smaller boy. This is new and different for both of them, and as much as Harry realises that Louis was the one to initiate this, he could change his mind in a matter of minutes. He wants to make sure they’re both comfortable.

“Can ask me my _colour_ instead,” Louis suggests, hands coming up to fix Harry’s shirt collar before they’re unbuttoning it instead. It takes Harry a second to process Louis’s words, way too entranced by how close Louis is to him. Even after almost four years, Harry still gets overwhelmed by having Louis’ attention and having him so close. It almost feels unreal some days. 

“S’green, by the way,” Louis teases him as he’s sliding the soft fabric of the flannel off of Harry’s shoulders, almost a little impatient with Harry’s scheduled epiphany over him. In Harry’s opinion, it’s a little rude. How dare Louis interrupt his realisations of love for him? “If you come back to Earth in the next few seconds, I’ll let you choke me a bit,” Louis hums, popping the button open of Harry’s jeans. 

Well, that gets Harry’s attention. 

“You want me to choke you?” Harry asks, lips parted. When Louis looks at him, Harry’s eyes are blown, green irises barely visible. 

“You’re so easy,” Louis grins, but there’s a hint of a pink hue along the tops of his cheeks like he’s getting a little shy over the suggestion even if it’s obvious that Harry very much likes it. “That got your attention, didn’t it? Look at that. Harry Styles is into _choking_.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Harry complains, narrowing his eyes playfully at his boyfriend whilst lifting his hips to let Louis tug his pants down further. Louis is the one that consistently continues to suggest things to try. In fact, Harry’s convinced that Louis wants all of this just as much as he does. 

“You wanted me to wear knickers,” Louis reminds, and Harry rolls his eyes, taking hold of Louis’ hands and pushing him backwards. Louis falls back against the mattress easily as Harry slots himself between his bare thighs. Ever since that night and to Harry’s excitement, Louis has continued to shave (the first time afterwards, asking Harry to help him.) It’s easy to hide, barely noticeable to the fans since they’re constantly in skinny jeans, and when Louis is in shorts, the pap and fan photos are usually too far away to pick up on something like that. Especially since in Harry’s opinion, Louis’ legs have always looked clean shaven. It’s simple, but it drives Harry insane every time he even brushes Louis’ legs. 

“I said you’d look nice in knickers,” Harry says, pinning Louis’ wrists above his head with each hand. He doesn’t miss the way Louis’ breath hitches, noting to himself that, yeah, this is _definitely_ more for Louis than himself. “You, my angel, wanted to put on your little skirt and be a pretty girl for the night. Got all dressed up for me, didn’t you? Or was it just for yourself?” 

Harry prides himself in being able to almost always turn Louis’ teasing back onto the smaller boy. And just like every other time, Louis never expects it. He’s always caught off guard, rosy-cheeked and squirming underneath Harry’s gaze. God, Harry always loves watching Louis squirm underneath him. 

“Think you’re the one who wants to be choked, hm? You want me to tie your wrists and wreck you, don’t you, baby? Probably thought about this all day,” Harry hums, taking one of the scarves into his hands. 

He doesn’t miss the blush on Louis’ cheeks when he glances up at Harry through his eyelashes, mumbling a soft, “Fingered myself open earlier.”

Harry groans at the thought of Louis getting himself ready for him, so confident that Harry would get on board with the idea. Harry is pretty predictable, he’ll admit to that. 

Harry just shakes his head in response, leaning down to slot their lips together in a kiss. It’s deep and hot from the start, and Harry’s just desperate to taste the boy. It’s dirty as he pushes his tongue into Louis’ mouth, feeling like his lips are bruising Louis’ with how hard the kiss is. Harry just needs it. He needs to kiss Louis, needs to taste him. He only pulls back when he remembers he’s got the scarf in his hand, breathless as he goes to grab Louis’ other hand and work on tying Louis’ wrists to the headboard of their hotel bed. 

“God,” Harry breathes out once they’ve tied Louis’ wrists up to the headboard, ducking down to press a line of kisses over Louis’ stomach. Louis’ skin is soft underneath his lips, damp with a light sheen of sweat, and honestly, Harry can’t believe he’s been blessed with such a lovely boy in his life. “I want to marry you.” 

“What?” Louis chokes out, blue eyes widening as he looks down at Harry. His arms are still crossed above his head, wrists bound together. 

And, _fuck_. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal, is the thing. He’s known forever that he wants to marry Louis, probably since the first moment he laid eyes on the older boy. They’ve talked about marriage before, having kids too, and although it’s all in hypotheticals, Harry knows that they both know it’s going to happen. He knows he’s mentioned it before, knows Louis’ made his own little mentions of marriage and their future together as well. So, it shouldn’t be too shocking, Harry thinks. 

Then again, Louis’ laying bare on the bed, arms tied to the headboard, and the one of the first thoughts Harry has is _‘I want to marry you.’_ It’s not exactly the most romantic, is it?

But it’s true. It’s so true that Harry has to pull away from the boy in shock, staring down to meet Louis’ equally stunned face. He’s frozen in place, wondering why the hell he’d even mumble such a thing.

For the most part, it’s completely Harry’s fault. He’s never had a plan for this. He saw the ring in a shop over a year ago and thought it was perfect for Louis, knew that he wanted to see this ring on Louis’ finger when they were engaged. Since then, it’s sort of just followed him in his bag, on tour, everywhere. It’s not that he’s never been ready to pop the question, to finally settle down. He’s always been ready. Hell, if Louis wanted to get married straight off of The X-Factor, Harry would’ve done it. He was already looking at rings then. 

Briefly, he rethinks this. Louis deserves a beautiful proposal. He deserves a rooftop dinner, a jet plane to Greece, and a bed full of rose petals. Harry wants Louis to fill himself up with white wine, to watch as Harry lowers himself down onto one knee across the table, and to jump up and down when he says yes and Harry slides the ring over his finger. Harry wants Louis to have fireworks and a moment he can repeat over and over again to all their friends and family. On the other hand, part of him knows that he could slip the ring on Louis’ finger while he’s sleeping one night and the older boy would just accept it the next morning. Louis isn’t as picky as Harry claims he is; but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t want to give him everything he deserves.

Harry can’t take this back, though. As much as he could lean up and kiss Louis, promise that of course he wants to marry Louis but he’s not actually asking, he knows that’s not right. It’s going to leave Louis expectant and waiting for The Moment, or worse, it’s going to leave Louis thinking Harry actually doesn’t want to marry him, especially not now, that it’s just a slip of his tongue. That they’ve almost spent four beautiful years together and Harry doesn’t believe that they’re marriage material. It’s a stupid idea, and Harry doesn’t know how anyone could think that Harry doesn’t want to marry Louis. 

“Shit, no— Sorry,” Harry shakes his head, leaning up to press a kiss to Louis’ cheek. Louis’ face falls then, but Harry’s too busy untying Louis’ wrists to notice, climbing off of the bed a few seconds later. “I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to— Give me a second, okay? Just a second,” Harry tells him when his feet hit the ground, shaking his head once again as he stumbles over their earlier discarded clothes and curses to himself. He makes his way to his bag, crouching down and digging inside of it. 

Harry’s hands are shaking when he finally stands and turns around to face the bed but that’s incomparable to the way his stomach drops when his eyes land on Louis. The older boy’s face has crumbled into an expression of confusion and dejection, shoulders hunched as he sits up in bed, and a small delicate hand is wrapped around his opposite wrist, rubbing gently from where Harry’s assumes the headscarf had irritated him. 

“Angel,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing together as he steps closer to the bed. He’s ruined this, he knows it, and he has absolutely no idea if this is going to make it better or worse. But he’s rounding the side of the bed, and after a second of hesitation, he’s lowering himself down onto his knee. Swallowing thickly, he lets Louis catch sight of the little black ring box in his hand, watching as Louis’ face reacts in shock once again before he’s setting it down on the floor next to him, opting to reach forward and take Louis’ hand into his own instead.

“I’ve had this forever,” Harry admits, glancing down at the ring box as he absently rubs his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand. Louis’ hand looks so delicate and small, and Harry just— he knows he’s never going to want anyone else. “I can do this over, okay? We can go somewhere gorgeous, Mexico or France or wherever— I can give you a redo,” Harry rambles, his voice shaky while he nods his head. “I just— I need to do this now.”

“I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. Every time I think about the future, every time I think about what I want, you’re always there. I’m always going to want you,” he breathes out, his hands sweaty as he holds Louis’ smaller one between his. It’s funny how Louis is grounding him through this when Louis is also the one who could say no and throw this all to flames. Somehow, even with how ridiculous this moment is, Harry has a feeling Louis won’t. “There’s nobody else I want to wake up next to in the morning. There’s nobody else I’d rather try new things with, see new things with — you’re always the first person in my head.”

“I love you more than I can comprehend sometimes. I love you when I’m on the other side of the world. I love you when you’re being a little brat whether it’s to me or Liam or— I just love you. You’re the best person I know and you make me want to be a better person every single day. You’re so bright and beautiful — so fucking beautiful — I can’t even comprehend it sometimes, you know? Not exaggerating when I say I think you’re an angel on Earth, you know. I just— I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want it all with you.”

“I don’t think I want to tie you up any more than I’d like to tie you down,” Harry jokes because this whole thing is already a mess. They’re both bare naked, flushed, and sweaty. It’s nothing like Harry’s ever imagined this moment to be like. He might as well throw a joke in there just to make it feel more like them, more comfortable. Louis’ teary now, probably has been for a while, Harry can tell, but he’s letting out a noise that sounds crossed between a surprised laugh and a groan. “Marry me? Please?” Harry lets out a little laugh, and _he’s_ weepy now. 

Louis grins, head nodding faster than Harry can even register. “Yeah— _Yes_ , fuck, come _here_ ,” Louis babbles, tugging his hand back in an effort to get Harry to climb back on the bed with him. “You’re— you’re fucking _ridiculous_. I love you. Of course I’ll marry you,” Louis sniffles as Harry scrambles onto the bed, not forgetting to grab the ring box and bringing it up with him. Harry laughs, dropping it on the mattress in favour of grabbing Louis’ face between his hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. It’s messy and they’re both just crying onto each other’s faces, but Harry couldn’t care less. It all feels surreal, alongside ridiculous, and Harry’s just over the moon with the idea of marrying his favourite boy in the entire world. 

“Fuck, _the ring_ — it’s gorgeous, I promise. Saw it and thought of you,” Harry laughs lightly when he pulls away, fumbling with the box before he’s finally opening it. It’s a silver ring, the metal carved with leafy vines and flowers. It’s not too flashy, not too intricate and over the top, but it’s _Louis_. It takes him a second to get it out of the box and slip it onto Louis’ ring finger. The smile he gets from Louis as a result is blinding. Louis looks speechless, holding out his hand and fanning out his fingers as he looks down at the ring. It seems so unreal, Harry thinks.

“I’ve been, like. Carrying it around for a year,” Harry admits with a watery grin, and Louis looks up at him with wide blue eyes, shaking his head before he’s launching himself at the younger boy and wrapping his arms tightly around Harry’s shoulders. It catches Harry so off guard that Louis topples him backwards against the pillows, straddling Harry’s waist, and Harry’s laughing wetly as Louis buries himself into his chest. 

“I love you so fucking much,” Louis murmurs, small hands curled into fists as he holds Harry close. There’s no way Harry’s ever going to let go anyway. His face feels like it’s going to split in half with how hard he’s smiling. 

Louis is the first to pull away, letting out a sweet giggle as he catches sight of Harry’s dopey and teary eyed smile. He looks just as happy, just as ridiculous, and Harry wants to keep this moment locked in his mind forever. “I still want you to fuck me,” he says, tapping his hand gently against Harry’s chest. “But— no scarves. ‘Cause I don’t want to stop looking at this. And you’ve — _God_ , I hate you — you’ve got me tied down this way,” he giggles, rolling his eyes as if Harry’s jokes actually bother him. Harry’s over the moon. 

“Whatever you want,” Harry laughs, and he tugs Louis down for another sweet kiss before he’s rolling them both over, his hands immediately finding purchase on Louis’ hips. It takes him a little while before he finally breaks away from it, grabbing the lube from the bedside table. 

“No prep,” Louis reminds him with a little smirk, extending his hand and wiggling his fingers as if to remind Harry what he did earlier. And while usually Harry would be very focused on the idea of Louis fucking himself on his fingers, getting himself nice and open for Harry, all Harry can focus on is the ring on Louis’ pretty little finger. 

“So very eager,” Harry murmurs when he’s finally removed his eyes from Louis’ fingers, instead focusing on getting himself ready for the smaller boy. He only takes a second before he’s sliding into Louis at a devilishly slow pace, groaning lowly at the way his muscles contracted around him. The smaller man's walls tight around the length of his cock is an experience Harry’s never going to grow tired of. He takes a minute to let Louis get used to the feeling once he’s bottomed out, knowing that no matter how much time Louis spent opening himself up earlier, his fingers are nowhere near as wide as Harry’s. Or as wide as his cock for that matter. 

“Green,” Louis huffs out a shaky moan after a few seconds, back arching as he gets used to the feeling of Harry stretching him out. Harry can’t help but roll his eyes a little at the mention of _green_ , knowing there’s absolutely no reason to use it now that they’ve ditched the scarves. Harry pulls his hips out until only the head of his cock remains sheathed in Louis before slowly rolling his hips forward, setting a slow rhythm, one that was comfortable, eliciting a coarse moan from the back of his throat. 

“Fuck,” Harry groans. Louis looks like an angel, blue eyes fluttering with every stroke of Harry’s hips. His arms are hooked loosely around Harry’s neck, and every so often, he catches Louis’ eyes straying towards his own fingers. It’s a lot to take in, a lot to watch as Louis admires the pretty piece of metal wrapped around his finger while Harry slams into him. He’s making the loveliest sounds as always, getting a bit louder as Harry aims for his prostate. 

He leans down to suck a dark mark into Louis’ skin, right against his collarbone, and it’s once his nose is pressed against Louis’ neck that he remembers Louis’ earlier suggestion. 

Taking in a shaky breath, Harry hikes Louis’ one leg up over his hip, changing the angle as he continues to fuck into him. “What’s your colour, baby?” 

Louis gives him an amused little smile, interrupted once by a moan when Harry slams against his prostate. It takes him another moment or two to remember the question he’s been asked, sliding his fingers up into Harry’s messy curls. “Green,” he hums, tipping his head to the side slightly.

Harry removes one of his hands from Louis’ hips, bringing it up and resting it on Louis’ chest for a second. He speeds up his hips, before sliding his hand up towards Louis’ neck. He puts his thumb gently on one side of Louis’ throat, then his fingers on the other side. He’s careful not to put any pressure on the front of the boy’s neck, glancing up to catch Louis’ expression.

Almost instantly, Louis’ lips are parting in realization, and Harry gives him a moment to change his mind and push him away, but to his excitement, Louis just watches, letting out little whimpers as Harry thrusts inside of him. 

Questioningly, Harry applies pressure to Louis’ neck, and although Louis is expecting it, Harry watches as Louis’ body tenses and lets out a small gasp. Small fingers are twitching in Harry’s hair as if the smaller boy’s contemplating pushing Harry off, and beautiful blue eyes are fluttering shut. Louis’ body is going lax beneath him, and it’s nothing Harry didn’t know before, but Louis’ the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

His gaze doesn’t move from Louis’ face as he holds the smaller boy’s breath, fucking into him slowly. He’s reacting to everything Harry’s doing beautifully, compliant and sweet underneath the complete control of Harry’s hand. 

It’s about fifteen seconds later that Harry reminds himself to pull his hand back, watching as Louis instantly takes a breath in, cheeks flushed as he opens his eyes. Harry can tell he’s overwhelmed, especially as he’s choking on his moans as Harry hits his prostate repeatedly.

“Again,” Louis chokes out, breath caught in his throat as his back arches into the feeling, fingers tightening once again in Harry’s curls.

Harry doesn’t have to be told twice, sliding his hand back up and around Louis’ neck. Harry feels warm all over as he presses his fingers down against the boy’s carotid artery again, the smaller boy melting into the feeling.

And on one particularly hard thrust to Louis’ prostate, Harry feels him come, head lolling back and shaking underneath Harry’s grip. The younger boy lets up his hand a little sooner than before, watching with dark eyes as Louis orgasms below him. He follows suit soon after, drives his hips hard into the older boy until he’s coming deep inside of him, muffling his groan as he hides his face in Louis’ neck. 

“Baby,” Harry murmurs once he’s pulled out, laying himself down besides Louis on the bed. Louis’ eyes are glossy and he looks beautifully blissed out, and for a second, Harry doesn’t expect the boy to answer him. 

Louis takes a moment before he’s rolling his head to the side, a soft smile on his lips as he meets Harry’s gaze. He brings his hand up a second later to cup Harry’s cheek, and Harry beams immediately at the cool reminder of Louis’ ring against his skin. They’re getting _married_. 

“We’re doing that again,” Louis decides after a moment, and Harry giggles, leaning forward to press their lips together in a sweet kiss. 

“Whatever you want, darling,” Harry promises, wrapping his arms around Louis and holding him tight to his chest. 

He’s beginning to think his stupid ideas aren’t all that stupid in the end.

✰ ✰ ✰

It only takes Zayn one second to catch the new jewelry on Louis’ hand, and before they know it, all three of them are dog-piling on top of Harry and Louis, smothering them both in hugs and kisses and _congratulations_. Harry can’t stop smiling, Louis looks like he’s ready to cry, and someone (Liam) is already sniffling. 

It only takes Niall ten seconds to realise: “ _Oh,_ fuck _, that happened in the bloody bedroom!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> don't forget to leave a comment & kudos if you enjoyed!! 
> 
> come visit me on [tumblr](https://thepolourryexpress.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/ZOUlSBUSONE) :)


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